


Late Night Phone Calls

by missema



Series: Sacraments [10]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Saints Row 2 - Freeform, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 12:36:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4919821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missema/pseuds/missema
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chief Bradshaw is among Stilwater's most eligible bachelors. Those close to him suspect that he might have a woman in his life, but no one knows who she is. Letting down his guard, he calls her after a long shift, hoping to see her after some time apart. </p><p>Elle and the Saints are beginning to take back their city, one block at a time. Such a takeover is time-consuming, and their relationship is a secret that growing harder to keep. She hasn't seen her man in a while, but he calls her after working late.</p><p>This is Boss/Troy PWP</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late Night Phone Calls

Ramos grimaced as she handed a stack of folders to the Chief, but quickly tried to change her expression before he noticed. It was late, they were tired and the last thing she wanted was Chief Bradshaw coming down on her. He wasn't a hardass, but he knew how to crack the whip when it was needed. She didn't want to give him a reason, not when he'd promoted her to this position.

She was lucky and he took the paperwork without comment, his mind apparently somewhere else. He'd been in and out of meetings all day, but that hadn't lessened their work. All of the assistants had been running today - but with gangs tearing up Stilwater and Ultor breathing down the Chief's neck, that was to be expected.

"Victoria, go home." Chief Bradshaw surprised her by speaking, but this time she successfully hid her reaction. "All of you, go home. It's late," he said to the room at large.

Outside of his office, there were three desks. Ramos was exclusively his assistant and had the one closet to his office door, but two other assistants worked under her, supporting the whole executive suite. The Deputy Chief of Police's assistant and the department's media liaison/third assistant formed the rest of their trinity, and they'd all just been dismissed by the Chief.

"Sir?" Ramos asked, not sure if the dismissal was genuine.

"Goodnight, Ramos. I'm going to leave after this next phone call, so you should do the same."

It was way past her quitting time, but like the others, she'd elected to stay and get paid the overtime. If not, the work would have been too much in the morning. It was a good thing she was hourly, not salaried. She knew how much the Chief made, and sometimes thought it wasn't enough for what he did. Bradshaw maintained a very precarious peace in Stilwater, and every time it came undone, it was his job to deal with it while pressure from all sides told him just how badly he'd screwed up again. That's what the past few days had been about.

The others started to gather their things, but Ramos offered to stay behind. If the Chief wasn't really leaving, that would be on her. Better to wait until she knew for sure. Her grateful colleagues said their goodnights, and she waited behind her desk. She could hear him talking behind his door, heard him but not the words. He was speaking softly without interruption - probably leaving a message. She sighed, thinking that she'd have to sit around and wait for the callback before she could go. Fortunately for her, the Chief came out of his office with his coat slung over an arm and his briefcase in hand. 

"Get out of here, Ramos," Bradshaw said, giving her a small smile.

"Just had to make sure you didn't need anything else, sir."

"I'll walk you to your car," he offered.

They made their way through the precinct, the night shift already in full effect. There were less admins and more uniforms in the place, the scent of old coffee rewarmed hanging in the air. Most people acknowledged them as they walked out, but she didn't bother to answer. They really only were saying goodnight to the Chief, not her.

The Chief lit a cigarette as soon as they hit open air, inhaling deeply on it. She was just about to speak, to make some inane comment about how long the day was when his phone rang. Likely probably the callback from his last phone call. She stiffened, hoping against all good sense that it would not be something that required her to go back behind her desk. Not when she was so close to freedom for the weekend. Troy picked took out his phone cautiously, surprising her with his sheepish look. 

"This is personal. Can you make it to your car on your own?"

She assured him she could, then turned away quickly. He retreated back towards the side of the building where empty squad cars were parked for quick deployment. His car wasn't far, after all the Chief of Police always had a dedicated space near the building. But the Chief was really making sure she got to her care safely, hovering near his own but not getting into it. Her car was across the lot, but it was well-lit and easily within her line of sight. Her thoughts began to roam toward home, a sandwich or pizza and bed as she heard the Chief answer his call.

It wasn't the informal "hey" that made her curiosity overcome her fatigue, but that she could tell, just knew that he was talking to a woman. The Woman. The one that she knew he had in his life but kept out of the public eye. There had been much made about Chief Bradshaw's steadfast bachelorhood in the press, one local magazine even including him on a list of the city's most eligible bachelors. Ramos never heard him mention anyone in his life other than his family, but she was sure there was someone. It was more than a hunch, but she lacked any concrete evidence about whom it could be. She slowed her walk, just a little.

"Haven't heard from you in a while," the Chief said, and then paused. "I can respect that," he said, obviously understanding the reason for the absence. 

Ramos was just feet away from her car, but took her time getting there and into the driver's seat. The Chief spoke again, but it was lost in some traffic noise. She rolled down her window with the ancient handcrank that didn't require her to start her car. It was the first time she wasn't cursing her lack of power windows. The fresh air was welcome in the car; it still smelled of the lunch she'd picked up earlier.

"I'm leaving work now, you should come through." Another pause, and the he laughed, a soft chuckle that was more a way not to answer than a true laugh. "Alright. I promise. I just want to see you."

Ramos smiled and started her car. Over the engine noise, she couldn't hear any more of the conversation, but there was no need. There was someone special, just as she'd suspected. It wasn't her business to find out more, but it was nice to know. The Chief was a good man, and she hated the thought of his life being all about work. 

When she drove past him, she waved and he looked up and waved back, the phone gone. His evening was arranged, and Ramos was going to go home to her girlfriend to speculate over pizza just what kind of secret lover the chief of police had. Given the comments about not hearing from her at the beginning of the overheard conversation, the mystery woman was taking shape in Ramos' mind. Probably an executive or a doctor or something like that. Long hours, business trips, an important career for her too that kept them apart. Yup, that had to be the kind of woman for their Chief. Private, important and probably just as cautious as he was.

#

"Okay, okay, no more of that shit tonight. I've got places to go, people to see." Elle announced in general to the room around her. 

There was much fuss at the Saints HQ, because Shaundi was trying her hand at figuring out the recipe for Loa Dust, and the drug was EVERYWHERE. The smoke hung thickly in the air, and every surface was coated in a fine sheen of white powder. Broken light bulbs littered the floor. There wasn't much science going on anymore, not after someone had brought over a couple of pizzas and turned on music. Elle wasn't into Loa Dust, but she had a few drinks earlier in the night before it got so loud around her. Now, she was a little sleepy and definitely ready to see Troy.

"Carlos? Hey, Carlos! You sober?"

"Yeah, Boss. What do you need?" Carlos asked coming over to Elle from across the room. 

She hadn't drank anything recently, but there was no way she was going to risk driving herself to Troy's with any alcohol in her system. Carlos had been one of the few people she'd noticed hadn't picked up a beer that night, and he'd come after the sampling of the Loa Dust. He'd been pretty low most of the night, but Elle had no idea why. He wasn't normally this quiet.

"Can you drop me somewhere?" she asked after he came over to her. Carlos nodded.

"Cool. I will be ready in ten minutes. Meet me outside."

Forty-five minutes later, Elle had redressed, been dropped off around the block from Troy's building by the still too quiet Carlos and was fishing for her key to open the door. When she managed to open it, she called out for Troy.

He appeared in the doorframe to the living room, filling the space with his bulk. He was wearing only pajama bottoms, a cigarette between lips that turned up in a smile when he saw her. It had been almost two weeks since they'd seen each other, and she'd been laying low after Jane Valderrama had been waiting in the parking lot for him one morning. While security might be fooled by Elle's 'disguises', Jane would certainly not be.

Elle smiled back at Troy as she walked forward. He took two steps back, swung out of sight for a moment and then returned without the cigarette just as she reached the doorway. In heels, she had a few inches on him and he looked up at her.

"You look good. Were you guys out drinking?" he asked.

"Thanks. No, we weren't out. I changed before I came over."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, I did. You like?" she asked, moving closer to him. She was wearing a short black dress in a light gauzy material with halter style neckline, and a grey trench coat over it. With her heels and hair unbraided into long waves, she looked like she had been out for a night on the town.

"Of course I do. It's like you read my mind," Troy said. He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer so that his low voice rumbled just near her ear. "Couldn't get you out of my head all day."

Being so close was electric, made her skin tingle. He smelled like soap and cigarette smoke and his aftershave. Elle could feel him breathing, the playfully intent touch of his fingers on the small of her back, the heat of his bare chest through the light fabric of her dress. She smiled at Troy.

"What had you thinking about me all day?"

"Remember that time at the church?" he asked.

"You'll have to be more specific. There were a few times at the church, if I recall correctly," Elle reminded him, and she felt his grip tighten around her.

"Up against the wall in my office. We knocked the books off some shelves, shook the plaster from the ceiling. You bit my shoulder and left teeth marks that lasted about a week. Ring any bells?"

She smiled, "you always did have a thing for almost getting caught." Even as she spoke, Troy was on her. Lips kissed her neck and jaw, his hands pushing the coat from her shoulders.

Elle let the coat drop and when his hands went around under her hair to unfasten the dress from around her neck, she left the work to him. She kissed him, catching his lips as they moved from neck back up again. Troy's hands stopped unraveling the knot at the back of her neck and cupped her face.

"I always had a thing for you, not getting caught."

"So you'd have done it anywhere I asked?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

He chuckled, but shook his head. "Maybe not anywhere, but I'd be willing to consider any requests."

Another kiss, a quick brush of lips and then a series that melted into a longer kiss. His tongue tested the seam of her lips and she opened them at his scant probing. They kissed deeply, she reacquainting herself with his taste and the way he felt in her arms, he mapping every inch of her skin he could touch with his large hands. He'd managed to untie the halter top of her dress and while it still rested around her neck, there was nothing keeping it on, nothing in their way.

He was devouring, commanding with each touch, every brush of lips against hers. Elle acquiesced readily, too long denied his touch, content to let him lead her in this fantasy. His kisses moved downward, trailing down her neck, to the hollow of her collarbone, to the valley of her breasts. They were fluttering little drops of kisses, despite his eagerness. The whisper of fabric across her skin made her shiver as her dress slid down to her waist. Troy kissed and flitted around her skin, licking her pulse as it beat in her neck, lips moving over her skin as if to mark it all until he'd had his fill. 

Troy guided her up against the doorframe, and then took both hands and raised them above her head. She grabbed on where she could, and pressed her back up against it. The jutting wood was going to leave a mark or two, but she'd relish them and the soreness when they were apart.

"No hands?" she asked. They didn't often play games in bed, but Troy liked sensation, relished receiving and inflicting it. He liked to hear her whimper sweetly, to beg and call his name in a whisper. Elle had a feeling that if not for his urgency, this night would held more of that.

"Not yet," he said, baring his teeth in a smile that made her shiver again.

Without warning, his mouth engulfed a breast, no licking or teasing prelude to it. Elle gasped at the sudden, intense contact. Troy didn't ease up. He just suckled the hard nipple until she moaned and squirmed, then moved to the other one, lavishing the same treatment on it. Even though she had more height in her heels Troy was bent to kiss her breasts, pressing her against the doorframe. She thought he might lift her up, so she could wrap her legs around him, but instead dropped to his knees.

The skirt of her dress was hiked up to her middle, the whole of the garment resting around her waist, ignored in favor of what its absence exposed. A finger grazed over the lacy panties she'd selected, teasing through the fabric before pushing it aside. Elle was achingly wet. He licked at her, with hard, pressing strokes of his tongue that made her call his name in increasingly breathy moans. Each time she cried out, he drew away until she said 'please'. When she tried to guide his head back to her with a hand, Troy pushed it away, teeth nipping at the inside of her thigh as a rebuke. No hands.

She was still wearing the heels. Stepping out of them would cast her down onto his face, and Elle wanted nothing more than to feel the continuous sweep of his tongue over her clit, to feel his finger inside of her. When she moved to step out of the shoes, he moved her. One leg was thrown over his shoulder, her ass held up by one wide palm. Her message was understood, but then she was perched one tiptoe with her weight balanced between Troy and leaning against the wooden doorjamb as Troy reapplied himself. It was delicate, precarious, but Elle never feared she was tip over in his grip, not even when he sucked on her clit so hard her thighs began to shake.

The warm flush blossomed in her stomach as her standing leg cramped, and then the world blinked out as she arched her back and climaxed against Troy's pulsing tongue and the press of his finger inside of her. It was hot and quick, a flash flood of sensation that made Elle unconsciously hold her breath so she could bear the intensity. She barely noticed how carefully Troy set her on her feet, sliding her leg from his shoulder so that she could stand.

There was no reason not to touch him now, and she couldn't hold back anymore. Elle slipped her arms around him and bestowed languid, sloppy kisses on Troy. He fisted a hand in her loose hair and she kissed where his neck met his shoulder, sucking at the juncture, leaving the last vestiges of her lipstick staining his skin. Troy was still wearing pants, the soft fabric brushing her as his hard cock rubbed against her thigh. Hooking her hands into his waistband, she pushed them down as far as she could until they fell away. His skin touched hers, heat and hardness against her body, wet with sweat and desire, slivers of aftershocks still vibrating through her.

He turned her so she faced away from him, and pulled her dress and panties down so she could step out of them. Elle did and kicked them away as Troy came up to stand behind her. He lifted her with an arm around her waist, just slightly up so that she was standing on her tip toes once again, then used his other arm to hold onto the doorframe. Her hand fastened just beneath his, so she could have her own leverage. His cock was just there, teasing at her entrance and she forced herself not to slide down onto it. 

When Troy was settled just right, he leaned into her and Elle pushed back onto her heels at the same time. The arm across her chest tightened, and she could feel Troy's soft moan against the back of her neck as she cried out. They were still until she moved, her hips pulling forward and back, setting the pace for the two of them. 

It was a even, slow glide at first, Troy concentrating on kissing her neck and tweaking a nipple with his thumb as she moved. The heat built between them and she could feel it rising every time she pressed her hips back. When the hand on her breasts grew more demanding, each tweak harder, she let him take over the pacing. Troy was punishing; hard, quick thrusts that meant to topple her over. A litany of murmured curses mingled with her name until she felt the gust of his breathing stutter against her shoulder, then his whole body stiffened as release overtook him. He managed a few more strokes, hard at first, but then growing lazier as he came down. Troy released her from where he'd held her against his chest, sweat cooling on her back as they separated.

Clothes littered the hallway, but Elle stepped over them and dropped like a sack onto his bed. The ceiling spun above her dazed eyes, but she was smiling.

#

He lay with her on the bed, all senses overwhelmed, his breathing coming back to normal. This time apart was hard to endure, but God, the sex was amazing every time they saw each other again. Troy still wanted her, though his body wasn't up for another round just yet. He was just coming to terms with that limitation and thinking ahead when Elle spoke.

"Have you been lifting weights? Your arms seem stronger."

Troy rolled over and kissed her stomach. The skin was a little sweaty, cool under his lips. "I have to look good for my best girl," he said, looking up at her. She giggled.

"Has it been that long since I saw you? You got a whole new routine already?"

"I was working out then too. Down at the station. Didn't think to mention it," he said. Troy was pleased that she'd noticed already because it hadn't been easy to find time, let alone the motivation to work out.

"Your best girl?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him. She'd swept her hair up into a loose knot that lost its structural cohesion when it hit the pillow and was now spread around her head like a black cloud. Troy moved up from her stomach to her face and kissed her pouting lips.

"Far and away my number one of all time," he said.

She caught him by surprise and rolled him. He went with it, and found himself laying flat with her straddling his waist. Her expression was playful, searching.

"Is that true?"

"I don't even like those twins from the Ronin," Troy said, baiting her with the outlandish lie. "They're more like nine and ten to your several number one spots."

Elle laughed, pushing her wild hair back from where it sat heavy on her shoulders. "You're so good at provoking me," she teased, but leaned down to kiss him while she was still smiling.

He returned her kiss, soft lips meeting his own with surprising intensity, happier than he'd felt in a good long time. Fatigue was starting to catch him, making his movements a little slower after their earlier exertions. It had been a long week. Troy kissed her again, then laid his head back on the pillow, arms folded behind his head in a mock casual gesture. He felt anything but, with her naked and on top of him.

"What do you want me to say?" he asked, but he had an idea of what she wanted to hear.

"Tell me the truth," Elle said simply, as if it had been obvious.

"I waited for you to wake up. Tried my best to keep you safe, to stop Johnny from going off the rails without you or the Saints." He very carefully avoided mention of Julius there, then went on before the unspoken could cloud the air. "You want me to say forever, but you should already know it."

"It doesn't hurt to hear it again, Troy."

"Come here," he said, and withdrew his hands from behind his head so that his arms could encircle her. She leaned forward, and he pulled her the rest of the way. He could feel her heart beating against his chest. Holding Elle close to him, Troy whispered, "today, tomorrow, forever. Always. Come hell or high water. For-fucking-ever."

Troy expected her to answer, to say something similar in return to his words, but she didn't. With her face buried in the crook between his neck and shoulder, he felt Elle shiver in his arms. He stroked her back, letting his hand drift lazily up and down as much of her spine as he could reach.

"I worry that this relationship will ruin everything for you. You have more to lose than I do if we get found out," she said. The words were spoken softly into his ear, like a whispered secret.

He had no immediate answer for her, so he sighed. That was one of his biggest worries too. Just this evening, Ramos could have heard him, might have figured out that he was seeing someone, even if she didn't yet know who that someone was. All he could tell her was the things he tried to tell himself.

"We're careful. If someone gets suspicious, we'll take more precautions. That's all I can say unless you want to walk away."

"No, never." She pulled herself into a sitting position and gave him a shaky smile. "For-fucking-ever, right?"

Troy grinned back at her.


End file.
